


It's Dangerous To Go Alone

by redlikerayses (RedLikeRayses)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AH OT6, Angst, Blood, Hurt Michael, Violence, chu's writing contest, so much angst holy shit, the title literally has nothing to do with the fic i just suck at titles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 02:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4246518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLikeRayses/pseuds/redlikerayses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael knew he shouldn't have been walking alone at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Dangerous To Go Alone

**Author's Note:**

> HEY LOOK IM NOT DEAD  
> *crowd booing*
> 
> I wrote this for Chu's (glackedandmullered) writing contest and it may or may not have gotten a bit out of hand. Whoops.  
> (Please don't murder me)
> 
> Word Prompt: nosebleed

Michael knew he shouldn’t have been walking alone at night.

He grew up in Jersey-he KNEW how dumb and dangerous it was.

But, come on. The store was like 2 blocks away and he just needed to pick up some popcorn and soda for Movie Night. Besides, it was nice out; about to rain but not quite there yet. His favorite type of weather.

His boyfriends had all protested profusely, the Gents offering to drive him while Ray and Gavin just kept calling him names and pleading with him not to go. Irritated, Michael had pointed out that he wasn’t a little kid and could take care of himself. Besides, he had learned how to self-defend in Jersey, and wasn’t afraid to use his skills.

After several minutes of arguing, he finally somehow managed to convince them to let him go. With a small wave and a reassurance that he would be fine, stop worrying your dicks off, he walked out the door and put his earbuds in.

15 minutes later he was checking his purchases out and walking out of the store. As he began the walk back to the house, he smirked to himself. See guys, he thought smugly, I’m fine. I told them nothing was going to-

Heavy footsteps behind him interrupted his thoughts. He was just about to put his earbuds back in, but now he calmly put them back in his pocket, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut. He put his hand in his other pocket and gripped his small pocketknife tightly. He knew he was probably overreacting but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He casually cracked his neck, subtly turning his head to look behind him.

Suddenly, before he could react, a hand grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forwards. Crying out in surprise, Michael fell to the pavement, landing on his hands and knees. He grabbed his pocketknife and tried to push himself back into a standing position, but a boot came down hard onto his back, and his limbs gave out as he was knocked back to the ground. His knife was kicked out of his hand and he instinctively flipped over onto his back, frantically scrambling backwards.

He bumped into another figure, who kicked him forwards. Losing his balance, he landed flat on his face onto the pavement. A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. Michael felt an arm wrap around his neck and a hand cover his mouth and he panicked, kicking out and flailing. Someone stepped into his line of vision and punched him in the stomach. Hard.

Michael groaned, going limp. He could feel himself being dragged backwards but he was too focused on trying to get his breath back to fight. He weakly tried to bite the hand covering his mouth but a hard object hit his shin with a painful crack!, sending a new wave of pain through him as he struggled to stay conscious.  
His vision darkened and he found himself being thrown into a dark alleyway. His head connected with the pavement and he cried out in pain. Rough hands grabbed at him and forcibly turned him onto his back. Through the fog in his head, he heard a gruff voice.

“How much cash do you have?”

Michael didn’t respond, still reeling from his head hitting the ground so hard. He hissed sharply as a hand slapped him across the face, throwing his head to the side. Someone grabbed his chin and turned his head, forcing him to look at his assailant.

The guy was built like a brick wall. He reminded Michael of club bouncers that could break up drunken fights between 10 people with little to no effort. He was dressed in all black and had a white bandanna wrapped around his face, covering his nose and mouth. His dark blue eyes hardened once Michael made eye contact with him. With a quick sweep of his eyes Michael counted 4 other guys surrounding him, dressed identically to the one who had slapped him. They were all holding baseball bats and stood stock still, their eyes devoid of any emotion as they stared down at Michael.

Blue Eyes gripped Michael’s collar with both hands, pulling him up and close to his face. “I said,” he growled, his grip tightening, “How much goddamn money do you have.”

“Bite me,” Michael spat back automatically. His heart stopped as he realized what he had just done. Oh shit oh shit why did I say that, why the fuck did I say that. Blue Eyes glared at him and drew his fist back, driving it into Michael’s jaw. Michael let out a groan of pain as the metallic taste of blood slowly filled his mouth.

Blue Eyes pulled him up again, their faces inches away. “Wrong answer,” he whispered menacingly. He shoved Michael back to the ground, ignoring his grunt of pain. He stood up and faced his lackeys, motioning with his head to Michael. “Search him.”

Michael felt hands roughly grabbing at his pockets, and he grinned. “Whoa now, at least take me out to dinner first.” His weak laugh was cut off as one of the shorter men drove the end of his baseball bat into his stomach, effectively shutting him up.

He felt his wallet being pulled out of his pocket and panic overtook him. Oh shit, my ID, fuck fuck fuck. He knew that if this gang found his ID that he would be blacklisted and hunted down for the rest of his life. Please don’t look for my ID, just take the money and run, just take the money and-

“Check for ID,” Blue Eyes said, and Michael felt his heart sink as he realized just how fucked he really was.

One of the men, who had a scar running from the outside corner of his left eye to his nose, grinned down at Michael. “Looks like pretty boy’s name is-“  
Before he got a chance to finish, Michael kicked out, feeling his foot connect with the back of Scarface’s knee. Surprised, the man fell, dropping the ID. Before anyone could react, Michael lunged for it and threw it over the wall behind him with newfound strength before quickly scrambling backwards.

The men snapped out of their shock and advanced on Michael, anger lighting up their eyes.

“You’re going to pay for that, punk,” Blue Eyes snarled.

Michael didn’t have a chance to react before a hand grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him up and slamming him against the wall. Michael felt an intense panic shoot through him as he looked into the eyes of Scarface, ablaze with fury.

Scarface drew his fist back and slammed it into Michael’s eye twice, and then his cheek, and then his nose. The redhead’s vision blurred as he felt a hand wrap around his neck and lightly squeeze.

Disoriented, he could no longer distinguish any of the figures in front of him. He didn’t know how long he had been pinned against that wall with 5 grown ass men whaling on him, but it felt like an eternity. An eternity where all he knew was pain. He felt his energy draining with every crack of a bat, every punch to the stomach, every slash of a blade. Too weak to even cry out in pain anymore, he went limp and let darkness cloud his vision, feeling his consciousness slipping away. He felt his head slam against the wall behind him and then there was nothing.

 

______________________________________________________________

 

When he came to, he momentarily forgot where he was. He figured that he was on the bed he shared with his boyfriends and wondered why the mattress felt so hard beneath him. And why was he so sore everywhere?

He slowly opened his eyes and saw 5 menacing figures standing around him, and his memories rushed back to him all at once. His eyes widened and he frantically tried to scrambled backwards, but a boot slammed onto his chest, keeping him in place. He couldn’t hide the tremors in his hand as Blue Eyes knelt down beside him and leaned over him. “Now,” he said softly, “Has pretty boy learned his lesson?”

Michael glared up at him. ”Fuck you, asshole,” he rasped. It hurt his throat to talk and he knew he was just making things worse at this point but he’d be damned if he went down quietly.

Blue Eyes tsked and stood up, his back facing Michael. “I thought so,” he murmured, his tone sounding almost disappointed. He slowly slipped an object out of his front pocket and turned it over in his hands. “You know, I kinda like you. You’re feisty. Most people cry or beg like little bitches. But not you. You’re entertaining. I almost don’t want to do this.

Almost.”

The next thing Michael knew, a knife was plunging into his side. White hot pain hit him like a train, and he screamed. His vision blurred and his throat was raw but he couldn’t stop screaming because oh my god, the fucker just stabbed him.

Michael drew in a sharp gasp of pain as Blue Eyes let go of the knife, sneering at him.

“You can keep the knife,” he said, smirking. “Think of it as a….goodbye present.” He stood up and Michael could see the laughter dancing in his eyes. “Sweet dreams, pretty boy.”

Michael squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a pitiful wail of agony. When he opened them again, the alley was empty. He was alone.

Choking back sobs of pain, he forced himself to focus. With shaking hands, he felt around for his phone, praying to god that it had somehow survived the attack. When his hand closed around a small rectangular object, he let out a sob of relief. Fingers fumbling, he managed to put it on the ground next to his head, screen side up. Gasping in pain, he rolled over onto his side, the knife still lodged in his other side.

He somehow managed to turn the screen on and get to the dialpad .He punched in 911 and let his hand fall to the ground. He focused on his breathing, which was choppy and shallow.He could feel his nose dripping,and looked down in time to see crimson splotch onto the pavement. When did I get a nosebleed? he vaguely wondered.

“911,what’s your emergency?”

“Stabbed,I-“

Michael was about to give his location when he froze. He looked at the knife in his side, and a strange calm washed over him as a realization hit him.

“Hello? Are you there?”

He was going to die.  
“Hellooo?”

By the time the paramedics got to him, he was going to be dead.

“Sir?” It was too late for him.

“SIR, are you there? HELLO?”

And he was going to be damned if he spent his last moments talking to some random 911 operator.

He ended the call and scrolled through his contacts, willing his vision to focus. He found the one he wanted and hit the call button, rolling over onto his back.

“Hello?”

Michael smiled. ”Hey,Gav.” He winced. His voice was still raspy.

“Hi Michael!...Are you ok? You don’t sound too good.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Could, uh…could you put me on speakerphone so I can talk to all of you guys?”

“Sure thing, Micoo.”

Michael quieted his breathing as he heard Gavin calling for the rest of the boys to gather around the phone. His vision kept tunneling and refocusing, and he shut his eyes.

He smiled weakly as he heard a chorus of greetings come from the phone.

He gulped.

“Hey, guys.”

“What’s up, Michael?” Geoff’s voice sounded far away, and Michael cleared his throat.

“Oh, nothing. Just…just waiting for a lane to open so...I can check out my shit out. Got bored and…wanted to talk to you guys.”

“Are you okay, Michael? You don’t sound so good.” Ray’s voice was laced with concern, and Michael gulped again.

“Yeah ,fine ,just…just a sore throat, is all.”

“And you’ve been gone a long ass time,” Ryan added.

“You would not fucking believe how long it took me to find the popcorn, “Michael replied, letting out a dry chuckle. ”So, uh...what’s up with you guys?”

“Well Gavin just broke one of our red plates.” Michael could practically hear Geoff’s eye roll.

“He thought it would be a good idea to see if it could double as a Frisbee,” Jack explained. “So he threw it towards Ray-“

“-without giving me a heads up first-“

“-and fucking missed.”

Michael weakly chuckled as the other started arguing. A faint thwap sounded from the phone, followed by an indignant squawk from Gavin. “Did it hit anyone?”

“No, but a shard somehow managed to cut Ray’s palm open,” Geoff sighed.

“Not my fault!”

“Shut up, Gavin.”

“Are you okay, Ray?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Besides, it was totally worth it. The wrap on my hand looks badass.”

Michael laughed softly as the others continued conversing, their banter quick and witty.

A faint fog settled over Michael’s mind, and he realized he couldn’t feel his leg anymore.  
He took a deep, shuddering breath and gulped. He knew what was happening.

Its time.

“Hey, guys?” His voice was small and raspy, but he didn’t have the energy to try to talk normally. “I have to go. The, uh, the lane opened up and…I’m next in line.“ His breathing was getting more and more shallow with each passing second. “Thanks for keeping me company.” In my last moments.

“No problem, Micool!” Gavin’s chipper voice sounded through the phone and Michael felt tears pricking at his eyes.

I’m never going to hear that sound again.

“And, guys?” Michael could feel his consciousness slipping once more. He didn’t have much time. “I love you guys. All of you. So...so much” he said softly.

“Michael? Are you ok?” Geoff’s voice sounded far away.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he whispered. “I just…really…really love you guys.” And I’m sorry.

A chorus of ‘we love you, too’s sounded through the phone, making Michael smile even though it sounded muffled to him.

“See you soon, Michael.”

“Goodbye, guys,” he murmured. He barely registered the click that indicated Gavin’s phone had been hung up. He didn’t have the strength to reach over and hit End Call.

It was getting harder to breathe.

He tried to open his eyes but failed.

He felt like he was floating away.

A final tear escaped his closed eyelid, and he drew his last breath.

I love you guys.

I love

I’m sorry

I’m s-

I

….

….

….

**Author's Note:**

> *spoilers below*
> 
>  
> 
> THERE'S A REASON I DIDN'T TAG THIS WITH A CHARACTER DEATH OK PLEASE DON'T KILL ME


End file.
